Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)

She shook her head. “I…I can’t.”

Probably for the best.

I’d been grief drunk when I put the item inside, a part of me unwilling to let her go forever. Now, as fate had made our destiny clear, it seemed too cruel to open it.

“I’ve been writing poetry,” she whispered. “In your journal.”

My grip flexed on the locket, trying to rein it in, but my heart beat faster. Alongside my words Snitch wrote hers.

“What are you writing?”

She was silent.

Fuck.

Her shorts revealed the swells of her ass, and all I could think about was whether she still carried my bruise.

“What happened to your little nun nightgowns?” I rasped.

“I get hot at night,” she said, breathy. “I think it’s the, um…”

She swallowed.

Pregnancy.

God, when she talked about my baby inside her I get way harder than I have any right to be. It fueled some primeval, caveman instinct in me. Story with my child.

“I’m still missing it,” I realized sadly. “All these things are happening to you.”

“You took me to the doctor…”

“I’ve never even held your hair back. I’ve barely satisfied your cravings. I’m not being the man you need me to be, Story. I’ve never felt more like my father than I do now. Trying not to be him.”

“Every day I feel more like her,” she said quietly.

I still hadn’t taken my other hand off her, tracing my thumb along her pulse. It pounded and throbbed against my thumb. I worked the sucker in my mouth, trying to focus on that, not how much I wanted to pull her locket, pull her to me.

“You never told me what you crave now.”

She looked at my lips and rasped. “Suckers.”

My groan ricocheted through my chest.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“What?” Her eyes grew in that innocent, exclusive Snitch way. They got big as walnuts, and I couldn’t help the twitch of my lips. I slid closer until I could taste her sweet breath.

“Now every time I have another sucker, I’ll think of you.” Wonder if you’re thinking of me.

Her lips parted.

“Well…” she said, and I closed my eyes, listening to how her voice got raspy with lust. It had been too fucking long.

“That seems fair,” she finished.

“Fair?” I gritted.